


Through Eyes of Starlight and the Mask of the High Lord

by Kitashi



Series: Through Eyes of Courts and Fate [11]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Court of Nightmares, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 14:44:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7512250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitashi/pseuds/Kitashi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys's POV of the Court of Nightmares and the aftermath from Chapters 42-43 of A Court of Mist and Fury.</p>
<p>The mortal queens wanted proof that they were telling the truth. The only item capable of such abilities resides in the Court of Nightmares, where lies and debauchery are an art form.</p>
<p>And as their High Lord, Rhys will give anything and everything of himself to protect his court. Even at the risk of his own future and happiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Eyes of Starlight and the Mask of the High Lord

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wallflower97](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallflower97/gifts).



> FINALLY.
> 
> I'm going to be honest, even though I love this scene for multiple reasons (both including and not including a certain High Lord), I never thought I would actually write this scene. I probably wouldn't have if it hadn't been requested so sweetly by wallflower97 (seconded by Dani22Greene) and my friends hadn't insisted I do it after the fact (probably getting a kick out of the idea of me writing anything even close to smut lol). And even though I still toned it down quite a bit from the real thing (not even intentionally), I still managed to make my friend who was reading it to make sure it wasn't too awkward blush reading this lol
> 
> I'm actually really pleased with how this turned out (all things considered) and ended up having a ton of fun writing it. It went on WAY longer than I thought it was going to, but I hope I did the scene justice! 
> 
> Wallflower97, I hope this gift meets your expectations, and thank you for the request! ^^
> 
> THIS CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR ACOTAR and ACOMAF. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
> 
> Enjoy!

I was never this nervous entering the Hewn City.

To some degree, I hated coming here. It reminded me too much of those days Under the Mountain, where Amarantha had attempted to copy my Court’s aesthetic to strike fear into the hearts of her enemies. If only they had known that the original was so much more, in every way. Her imitation of my Court was laughable in comparison. But it still brought back bad memories.

Mor had gone on ahead, to prepare the Court for my arrival and buy us time to search for our would be assailants. It pissed me off that we hadn't found them, or any clues related to them, though I strongly suspected Hybern.

Every time she went to check up on them in between my visits, I vainly hoped I would one day be greeted by news of the slow and painful death of her worm of a father or his corpse, for all that his loss would inconvenience me slightly. He was lucky that his usefulness had extended his life thus far, and that his daughter played the deeper games of power better than he did. For as terrible as her father was, the rest of her family was just as bad, if not worse, and the idea of the stewardship being inherited by one of them… it gave me a headache just thinking about it.

Azriel and Cassian stood with me, wearing their battle black leathers and all seven of their Siphons. My Shadowsinger and General, the two most powerful Illyrians in history, the closest thing to brothers I had, and the precursors to my arrival. I smiled grimly at them, which they returned. It was easier for us not to speak before we did this. It allowed us to better get into the roles that we had to play.

It was routine; scare the shit out of my cave dwelling subjects, and remind them that despite the nearly limitless freedom I allowed, _I_ ruled _them_. Then leave them to their debauchery until I felt it necessary to do it again. So far, it worked quite well for everyone involved.

Today was different though. Today had a purpose.

Suddenly, I could hear Mor's voice echo through the hewn halls. “Your High Lord approaches. He is in a foul mood, so I suggest being on your best behavior- unless you wish to be the evening entertainment.” Her mask; the cold and cunning Third of the Night Court, so far removed from my bubbly and cheerful cousin who loved to dance and drink at Rita’s, and tease me mercilessly. A Dreamer born into the Court of Nightmares, who nearly died to decide her own fate.

I watched Azriel and Cassian nod at each other, and walk off in perfect sync, their wings out enough to be menacing and their unfeeling masks firmly in place. I followed them slowly, using my power to make the mountain shake with each step I took. To make my subjects squirm.

I brushed a hand over my black tunic and straightened my crown of stars before shoving my hands in my pockets. The crown was hardly comfortable, and being raised in the Illyrian camps, it seemed unnecessary and trivial. I honestly hated it.

We all had to be people we didn't like here though.

I could feel Feyre in the throne room, her emotions a mix of intrigue and awe at seeing my Inner Circle like this. She was the one I most hated being pulled into this.

I felt Mor's signal and released the damper on my power, releasing the shadowy abyss and stepping into my throne room.

I could feel the fear coming off of the masses in droves, their weak minds unable to keep up shields strong enough to hide their emotions. It was amusing, as I literally had nothing on my person to cause such a reaction.

Except this was my Court. Here, wings and weapons weren't necessary. I was the most powerful High Lord ever born. A mere look from me, and some of these fools would be dead on the floor. And they all knew it.

I met Feyre's gaze as I strolled between the pillars to my throne. From this distance, I could already tell I was going to be having a discussion with Mor later about how she kept making Feyre look so damn _tempting_.

Mor stepped off the obsidian dais of my throne, dropping to one knee in a smooth bow, her blonde hair shining in the firelight and her crimson dress bright and lively in this dark stone city. Looking every inch the queen she’d had to be while I’d been Under the Mountain. Cassian and Azriel followed suit, and the room did the same.

“Well, well,” I said nonchalantly, to no one in particular. “Looks like you're all on time for once.”

Cassian raised his head and gave me a half grin. To the rest of the Court, it probably looked like he was eager to cause some chaos. I knew better. He was being my brother, and he knew what I was going to have to do.

I’d call the prick a bastard if we didn't take it as such a badge of honor.

I stopped in front of Feyre, who had knelt with the rest of my Court. Not wanting to seem like she was a part of my Inner Circle, like she was anything special.

I lifted her chin with my fingers, making her look at me.

Oh yes, I was definitely going to have a discussion with Mor after this.

Feyre was beautiful normally, stunning really. But this…

If someone could be temptation incarnate, she was kneeling in front of me right now. Feyre's blue- grey eyes were lined with kohl and her eyelashes impossibly longer than usual, brushing her cheeks every time she blinked. Her golden-brown hair fashioned into a crown to accent the black adamant and diamond diadem I had given Mor to complete the revealing, sparkling black ensemble that reminded me of the night skies above Velaris.

And her blood red lips. _Cauldron_.

It was only the years of hiding my feelings Under the Mountain that kept my voice steady as I curved my mouth into a cruel smile.

“Welcome to my home, Feyre Cursebreaker.”

She lowered her eyes, playing her role almost too well. I had to keep my rage in check at the thought that Tamlin had treated her so badly in the end that a firebrand like her could slip into a demure mask as naturally as breathing. I clicked my tongue and gripped her chin a little tighter than I intended. Unfortunately, it worked for what we were going for. I looked at her like a predator would look at prey, and I couldn't even deny that it wasn't far off from my real feelings.

“Come with me,” I commanded, tugging on her chin. She rose, showing off her sparkling black outfit that, if I were honest, was far too close to what I had her wear Under the Mountain, minus the paint. Two shafts of fabric barely covered her breasts, and the sparkling belt she wore made the remaining length of fabric hang strategically to give her some semblance of modesty. I could feel my jealousy growing, that everyone else could see just as much as I could. But she was so damn tempting that I couldn't help but let my brain fog over a little with lust.

I led her up the steps to the throne and took a seat, smiling faintly at the crowd that was probably cursing my name for how long I had kept them on their knees so far. I tugged on Feyre's waist, and perched her on my lap.

I didn't care that she’d offered, that she said she knew what she was getting into.

Making my mate play the part of my whore was going to be one of hardest things I’d ever done.

I knew this is what the world expected her to be. Our bargain was certainly no secret to anyone Under the Mountain, or to those who had eyes and ears in Amarantha's court. Especially after I used it to piss Tamlin off in the most public way possible, to keep him from giving up and damning all of us to eternity in a hell of Amarantha's making. And it wasn't as though Feyre actually knew she was my mate. That didn't make this any easier, though.

I slid my hand along Feyre's bare waist, the other down her exposed thigh. I felt her flinch in my arms, the word _cold_ sneaking past her otherwise perfect mental shields. I warmed my hands with a little magic, and stroked the inside of her thigh with my thumb in a silent apology. She relaxed some.

I leaned in, bringing my mouth to her ear, well aware as I was teasing her that my subjects were still kneeling, and valiantly trying to keep from cursing my name, lest I hear them. They knew the consequences if they rose even a moment before I bid them. It was a good way to keep these cretins in line.

“Try not to let it go to your head,” I whispered to her, though I knew everyone in the room could hear me. I stroked her rib cage in lazy, indolent circles.

Feyre looked out at the crowd, her heart hammering, but with a smoothness to her voice that made me proud, she replied, “What?”

I let out a breath along the shell of her ear. Despite my wings being hidden, I could still feel the sensation of her fingers running over that sensitive edge; the damn tease. “That every male in here is contemplating what they’d be willing to give up in order to get that pretty red mouth of yours on them.” I included myself in that number.

To my surprise and pride, she smiled a bit, showing her straight white teeth, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. A mask. Just like all of ours.

I slid my hand higher up her thigh. Even though I had apologized in advance for these roles we had to play, for the game we had to play with my court, I still felt terrible.

To my surprise, she leaned into the touch, leaned back into me. I had to bite back my growl as I addressed my court. “Rise.”

As one, they did. I hoped their aching knees would be a good deterrent for future punishments. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Feyre smirking at them, bored and amused by the proceedings. I brushed a knuckle along the inside of her knee.

“Go play,” I said to my court. They immediately dispersed, the music striking up from a distant corner of the room; I could almost taste the relief in the air that they’d survived without incident.

“Keir,” I said sharply, my voice cutting through the room. Like a good little worm, Mor's father appeared at my call and bowed again before me, though he could not hide his icy resentment.

His family had once ruled the Night Court, centuries before the power passed to our line and eventually my father. It was something he’d never gotten over; a man who clung to vestiges of power he no longer had. The only thing more insulting to him than having to serve me was that his disobedient daughter was ranked higher than him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cassian give him a slow nod; a reminder, and a promise, that what he’d done to Mor would never be forgotten or forgiven. Azriel was the one who made him cringe though. Azriel didn't even have to do anything. But his promise, to carve Keir up slowly with the honed edge of Truth-Teller the day Mor asked him to, still hung in the air as clear as the day it was made. Keir looked like he was about to wet himself at the sight of that blade on Azriel’s back.

“Report,” I said, running a knuckle down Feyre's ribs. I nodded to my family, and the trio faded into the crowd for their own part in this mission, Azriel literally vanishing into the shadows.

“Greetings, milord,” Keir said, his deep voice hiding his previous fear of my Shadowsinger. “And greetings to your… guest.”

I flattened my hand on Feyre's thigh and turned my head to look at her. “She is lovely, isn't she?”

“Indeed,” Keir said, knowing any other answer would get him in trouble. “There is little to report, milord. All has been quiet since your last visit.”

“No one for me to punish?” I knew there was more going on behind the scenes, but letting Keir think he had some modicum of power or knowledge I didn't know about worked to my advantage most of the time.

“Unless you’d like me to select someone here, no, milord.”

I clicked my tongue. “Pity.” I looked at Feyre again, and took her earlobe in my teeth again.

And damn it if she didn't lean back at the same time, as my hand stroking went on the high side of her thigh. I could hear her breathing hitch. I stilled my fingers.

I knew I shouldn't be enjoying this. We were acting. We were giving Azriel time to find and steal the Veritas. There was nothing about this that was real. Not to Feyre anyway.

As I tuned out the drivel that Keir was running his mouth about, marriages, alliances, and blood feuds, I returned to stroking her leg, acting like I was actually paying attention.

I could feel Feyre's shield slipping slightly. Through the small crack in her shield, I could see her mind was focused solely on my touch. I couldn't help but feel some pride at that.

I hated that this had to be so public. I wanted to take my time, to make this an experience for her that she’d enjoy, just the two of us… but such was the way of this court. Unlike Velaris, the Court of Nightmares thrived on this sort of thing. And if pretending to be like them kept them from trying to overthrow me and causing such an unnecessary loss of their lives, then that's what I would do. I would give anything and everything of myself to keep my court safe. Whether they agreed with my methods, appreciated it, or not.

Keir finally couldn't hold back anymore, my antics pissing him off exactly the way I wanted it to. “I had heard the rumors, and I didn't quite believe them.” His gaze lingering too long as he gave Feyre an appraising look, and my inner beast wanted to gut him. “But it seems true: Tamlin's pet is now owned by another master.”

“You should see how I make her beg,” I murmured, nudging at her neck with my nose. Only in my dreams.

Keir clasped his hands behind his back. “I assume you brought her to make a statement.”

“You know everything I do is a statement.”

“Of course. This one, it seems, you enjoy putting in cobwebs and crowns.”

Ah, so that's what was bothering him. The disgust in his voice was plain. I paused my ministrations, and Feyre straightened up somewhat. “Perhaps I’ll put a leash on _you,_ ” she said, her tone confident and cutting.

It took a great deal of effort to keep in character; all I wanted to do was laugh at his expense. Instead, I tapped at her mental shield in approval and started circling her ribs again, trying to distract myself and her. “She does enjoy playing,” I said thoughtfully, my mouth on her shoulder. I jerked my chin up at Keir. “Get her some wine.”

Keir bristled, but strode off, knowing he couldn't disobey a direct command.

I pressed a light kiss behind her ear. She was doing wonderfully, better than I could have hoped. I was going to have to make this up to her with something fantastic.

A new song floated through the air, the rapid drumbeats a contrast to the honeyed sound. Feyre twisted in my arms to look at me, like she was studying my face; what she was looking for, I couldn't tell.

She opened her shield enough to let me in.

_What?_ I asked her. Suddenly, she reached down our bond, what she thought was the bargain, and caressed the wall of my mental shield. She was getting good at this. I cracked it- just for her.

_You are good, Rhys. You are kind. This mask does not scare me. I see you beneath it._

My grip tightened on her, and I leaned forward to brush my mouth against her cheek. I didn't deserve her.

To my surprise, she leaned against me more, her legs widening ever so slightly. Her voice floated into my mind again. _Why’d you stop?_

I let out a nearly silent growl. The wicked _tease._ I started stroking her ribs again, in time to the beat of the music. She let her head drop back onto my shoulder, and slowly let herself go. She became a wild, dark thing writhing in my arms and lap, and Cauldron boil me I didn't want her to stop.

It may not be real, but for the time being… why not enjoy it.

I could feel her idly dragging her hand up and down my thigh. My brain fogged up completely, and my pants grew tighter.

This was unfair. So very, very unfair.

Suddenly, I could hear her thoughts coming through the crack in her shield. Our mutual teasing was getting to her too. Her thoughts were erratic; the only thing she could focus on were where my hands were going next, and feeling like she was going to catch fire and burn.

_Easy,_ I told her with some wicked amusement through the sliver in her shield. _If you become a living candle, poor Keir will throw a hissy fit. And then you’d ruin the party for everyone._

And we’d have three seasonal court High Lords hunting for our heads instead of two, because Keir would make sure his almost ally Beron was on my doorstep by morning.

I shifted my hips just slightly to try to make myself more comfortable, and almost came undone at the contact.

I hadn't desired anyone in a long time. Amarantha had ensured that. But Feyre…. she was different. I slid my hand down her stomach, and hooked it into her low slung belt that held the strips of fabric in place, that only barely covered her as it was, and skimmed the knuckle of the other one on the underside of her breast.

Suddenly, I could feel spike of emotion that wasn't related to us. I looked up, but still not pausing what I was doing.

Keir was standing off to the side, holding the wine I’d sent him to get, staring at us unabashedly. Unsure whether to interrupt, and clearly half terrified to.

Perfect.

I held Keir's gaze as I slid the tip of my tongue up Feyre's neck, daring him to say or do something to interrupt us. Feyre's mind was in such a haze that I couldn't help but enjoy this, the pride of making her feel this way.

_I think he's so disgusted that he might have given me the orb just to get out of here_ , I said to her with amusement, continuing to touch her. Keir's face was absolutely priceless. Pissing him off was always so much fun; it just happened to serve a purpose this time.

_You and I put on a good show_ , she replied back in a sultry voice that I didn't even know she was capable of. I wanted to hear it again.

I slid my hand to her upper thigh, fingers curving inward. She ground against me, trying to move away. Only to find me hard against her backside.

Her mind went blank for a moment, only to fill with a thrill of power as she continued to writhe against me. I let out a low, rough laugh, unsure how to respond without getting myself in a _lot_ of trouble later.

Keir still stood there, frozen in place, clearly horrified. But the longer we kept him distracted, the more time Azriel had. And the less questions we would get about where he was.

Feyre had turned around, meeting my eyes with a fire I was sure mirrored my own as she licked up the column of _my_ throat. It almost undid me.

She faced forward again, & I immediately went to the back of her neck above her spine. She shifted again, writhing in my lap. I slid my hand up her inner thigh-

Shit. I felt my eyes go wide and tightened my arms around her as I felt her focus slip, the fire fade slightly. She was embarrassed. And I was weighing the consequences of winnowing us to my home above the court, specifically to my bedroom, and not leaving for a very long, long time.

_It's fine,_ I said, though I couldn't keep my mental voice from sounding breathless. _It means nothing. It’s just your body reacting-_

_Because you're so irresistible?_ she quipped, but her own mental voice sounded strained too.

I laughed, but it wasn't humorous. I’d let myself get too wrapped up in our playing, even though I knew she didn't want this. Not like I did.

Suddenly, she had a lust fogged smile on her face, though she had a nauseous feeling that escaped her thoughts before she smoothly blanked out her mind. Before I could ask, I noticed out of the corner of my eye Azriel walking towards us. He gave me a subtle nod. He’d gotten the orb. Mor appeared almost out of nowhere and ran a hand over his shoulders and chest as she circled to look at his face. His scarred hand wrapped itself around her waist. Squeezing once. Confirmation.

She gave him a little grin and sauntered into the crowd again. Poor Azriel stared after her, distant and bored, but I knew my brother better than that. It had been almost painful to watch the unresolved sexual tension between them the last few centuries, especially because in Azriel’s case it was self-inflicted.

I crooked a finger at Keir, finally summoning him over to us as he scowled in Mor’s direction. He’d barely reached the dais before I took hold of the goblet, floating it towards us and setting it next to my throne. A useless errand for a useless man.

“Should I test it for poison?” I drawled. _Cassian's waiting. Go._ No reason for Feyre to stay here any longer. Our mission was complete. She didn't have to pretend anymore. And I would apologize to her later for going further than I should have.

“No, milord,” Keir groveled. “I would never dare harm you.” Feyre got out of my lap and moved to stand next to Cassian. I knew there was nothing hiding how uncomfortably tight my pants had become now, but I didn't entirely care at this point.

“You’ll get what's coming to you, whore,” Keir whispered softly as she passed. What he thought was too quiet for me to hear.

I lost it.

The denizens of my court let out a scream as my darkness unleashed itself and whipped around us. I shoved Keir to his knees with my power, my rage almost completely overtaking my rational thought.

“Apologize.” I put power into my command, the music silenced as everyone watched to see what Keir would do as the darkness cleared. My inner beast clawed from the back of my mind, wanting to be let out, to bring pain and suffering on the one who would dare insult my mate so. It was one thing to be called that myself. But to call _her_ that…

Keir’s neck muscles strained, and he was sweating. But he didn't say a word.

“I said,” my tone cold and full of promise, “apologize.”

Keir groaned. Another heartbeat passed.

His bones cracked audibly and he screamed, as I made his arm fracture into four different pieces. Still no apology. Another crack. This time, I disintegrated his elbow.

Keir began sobbing, though I knew the tears were only half from the pain. His eyes were so full of hate as he looked at Feyre and turned to me.

But his lips formed the soundless words, _I’m sorry_.

I knew he didn't mean a word of it.

The bones of his other arm splintered under my power. Keir screamed again, and I smiled at him cruelly. I turned to the room. “Should I kill him for it?”

No one answered, too scared to agree or disagree with either of us. I chuckled and turned back to Keir, who was still sobbing.

“When you wake up, you're not to see a healer. If I hear that you do…” His pinky cracked and he let out another scream as it became as loose as the rest of his arm. “If I hear that you do, I’ll carve you into pieces and bury them where no one can stand a chance of putting you back together again.”

Keir’s eyes widened in true terror now. He knew my threat was not an empty one. I waited. One breath. Two.

I sent a mental blast of power, and he collapsed in a heap on the floor.

“Dump him in his room,” I said to no one in particular. He’d wake up. Eventually.

His nephew and son rushed forward, gathering him up and leaving in a hurry. Mor watched, sneering faintly at them, though she still looked pale.

As soon as they were gone, I sat back in my throne again. “Report,” I called out. Another courier scurried up to me and began to give me more reports about the trivial matters of the court, as the rest started to go back to its former revelry. I half listened, but I couldn't help but feel Feyre's gaze on me. She stood next to Cassian, though no one dared come near her after the display with Keir. My inner beast purred possessively; no one would come near _my_ -

I stopped myself. She wasn't _my_ anything. Despite our playing, despite what _I_ wanted, we were not anything to one another. She had done this as a member of my Inner Circle, for the mission at hand. Her constant gaze for the next hour was distracting, but I wasn't completely sure what it meant. All I could tell was that she didn't hate me, but that didn't mean much.

Finally, I’d had enough. I stood up from my throne unceremoniously, but it was still noticed by the crowd. Without a word, I strode through the room, making the mountain shake with my steps again, the crowd bowing as I left, my Inner Circle following behind. We were almost done. But I couldn't let the mask fall. Not yet.

\---

I winnowed Feyre a moonlit mountain lake, in the mountainous forest to the east of Velaris. Mor, Cassian, and Azriel had gone ahead to Velaris with the orb, but I had to do this before it was too late, before they could interrupt.

I stood next to the lake, the night so calm that the water reflected the night sky beautifully. It did nothing to help the turmoil going on inside of me. Feyre stayed back, silently watching.

“I’m sorry,” I said hoarsely, my guilt washing over me in waves.

“What could you possibly have to be sorry for?” Feyre sounded genuinely confused.

I couldn't look at her. I could feel my hands shaking, still feeling the dredges of rage from earlier and anger at myself for being unable to keep myself in check. I had gone too far.

“I shouldn't have let you go. Let you see that part of us. Of me.” I was stumbling over my words, and I couldn't even keep up my usual swagger in my voice. I was just…me.

“I’m fine,” she said. “We knew what tonight would require of us. Please - please don't start… protecting me. Not like that.” A flash of a shattered study splattered in blood red paint flashed through her memory. I turned around to look at her.

“I will never - _never_ lock you up, force you to stay behind,” I said forcefully. “But when he threatened you tonight, when he called you…” The word died in my throat, but we both knew. “It's hard to shut down my instincts.” To want to protect my mate, I added to myself silently.

“Then you should have prepared yourself better,” she snapped, her famous temper showing itself. “You seemed to be going along _just fine_ with it, until Keir said-”

“I will _kill_ anyone who harms you,” I snarled. “I will _kill_ them, and take a damn long time doing it.” I let out a breath. “Go ahead. Hate me- despise me for it.” I was done pretending that this didn't affect me, that I didn't care.

“You are my _friend,_ ” she said, her voice breaking and tears streaming down her face. “You're my friend - and I understand that you will defend your true court, and punish threats against it. But I can’t… I don't want you to stop telling me things, inviting me to do things, because of threats against me.”

I could feel my anger reach its tipping point. My darkness rippled and my wings appeared, unable to stay hidden with my emotions in the state they were in.

“I am not him,” I breathed, trying to calm myself down. “I will never be him, act like him. He locked you up and let you wither, and die.”

“He tried-”

“Stop comparing. _Stop_ comparing me to him.”

She stopped talking.

“You think I don't know how stories get written - how _this_ story will be written?” I put my hands on my chest, my heart breaking, but I couldn't stop. “I am the dark lord, who stole away the bride of spring. I am a demon, and a nightmare, and I will meet a bad end. He is the golden prince - the hero who will get to keep you as his reward for not dying of stupidity and arrogance.” The things I loved had a tendency to be taken away from me, and I was sure in the end, Feyre would be no exception. Tamlin would make sure of it.

“And what about my story?” she hissed, her temper burning hot. “And what about _my_ reward? What about what _I_ want?”

“What is it that you want, Feyre?” I was genuinely curious.

She didn't answer. I laughed softly, bitterly.

“I thought so. Perhaps you should take some time to figure that out one of these days.” Whether she meant to or not, our playing had screwed with my head; I wasn't sure I could pretend I was okay with not knowing whatever this was… whatever _we_ were anymore.

“Perhaps I don't know what I want, but at least I don't hide what I am behind a mask,” she seethed. “At least I let them see who I am, broken bits and all. Yes - it's to save your people. But what about the other masks, Rhys? What about letting your friends see your real face? But maybe it's easier not to. Because what if you did let someone in? And what if they saw _everything_ , and still walked away? Who could blame them - who would want to bother with that sort of mess?”

I flinched. And her eyes widened, her face stunned.

“Rhys,” she said, her voice full of regret. But she was right. And it couldn't be taken back.

“Let's go home,” I said woodenly. I grabbed her hand, not meeting her eyes, and winnowed us back to Velaris.

\---

As soon as we arrived at the townhouse, we were greeted by Cassian, Azriel, and Mor, ready to pounce just as I’d expected them to be. I could hear Feyre quietly bid us good night, but I don't think anyone else actually heard her. I couldn't even look at her.

“What did he say?” Cassian asked. I shook my head. I really didn't want to talk to anyone right now. All I could think of was the words echoing in my head.

_Who could blame them - who would want to bother with that sort of mess?_

“Rhys-” Mor this time.

I brushed past them and walked up the stairs to my room. I just needed to be alone.

I closed the door behind me and let my mask finally fall. I let out a sob.

I’d screwed everything up. Any chance I’d had of things working between Feyre and I was pretty well ruined now.

She’d said I was good, kind. That she could see me beneath my mask _._

But did she really? I wondered if she still felt that way after our fight.

I felt down our bond for her, but she wasn't in her room. Not that I probably could have talked to her if I wanted to. I laid down on my bed, arm over my forehead as I stared at the ceiling.

It was clear sleep would not be coming to me tonight.

\---

I went to Amren's apartment first thing in the morning. The door was unlocked as usual.

“Well, look who decided to grace me with his presence,” she said sardonically, side eyeing the blood I had placed on her countertop. From the sallowness of her skin, it looked like she hadn't stepped away from the Book in days.

“Go to hell,” I snapped, not in the mood. I’d gone flying in the middle of the night, trying to combat my inability to sleep with no success.

“Well that's quite the greeting for someone who just let you into their house,” she replied sarcastically. “Besides, I'm already there,” she said, gesturing to her High Fae body. When I didn't respond, she let out a sigh. “What do you want Rhys?”

“Have you made any progress with the Book?”

“If I do, you'll be the first to know.”

I turned to leave. The sooner we could nullify the Cauldron, the better.

“What did he call her Rhys?” she asked suddenly. I paused. “Only a threat against Feyre would make you lose your temper like that.”

I turned around, confused. “How did-”

“Mor.”

My shoulders slumped. My Second was no fool, and I knew I shouldn't be surprised that Mor had stopped in to give her an update. “He called her a whore. Said she'd get what was coming to her. So I broke his arms and threatened to kill him and scatter the pieces if he saw a healer.”

She swore. I crossed my arms.

“We leave for the Illyrian camps in two days. In the meantime, I'm going hunting for our attackers,” I said, not wanting to talk about it anymore. I needed to distract myself.

“You’ll be here for Starfall?” she asked nonchalantly. Trying not to sound like she cared. I felt myself smile slightly.

“Will _you_ be here for Starfall?” Her hatred of crowds was legendary. She threw a vulgar gesture my way, not even looking up from the Book. I let out a short laugh and walked towards the door again. At the doorframe, I paused.

“Amren…” I turned around.  “Why were you and Mor having conversations with Feyre about… Illyrian wingspans?”

A feline grin crossed her face, and I instantly regretted asking.

“Oh, no reason…” Her tone said otherwise. I shook my head.

“Forget I asked.” I walked out the door as Amren’s cackling echoed behind me.

\---

I arrived at the House of Wind late that night, exhausted. My search had proved fruitless, and I really just wanted nothing more than to sleep.

Cassian was waiting in the foyer when I arrived.

“Feyre’s been looking for you,” he said by way of greeting. I walked past him wordlessly, and he followed me in.

“She's getting better with Illyrian blades,” he said, taking my silence as license to keep talking as I walked up the stairs to my room. “She might actually be able to disembowel someone eventually.” While I felt pride that she was getting better, I couldn't get past our last conversation. Cassian sighed.

“Look, if you want to sulk, that's fine, but at least make up with Feyre. She's really-”

“She made her feelings very clear,” I said coldly. I knew I was being rude, but I couldn't find it in myself to care. We had reached my room, and I just wanted to sleep. Cassian grinned at me mischievously.

“I’d say you both did. You both looked like you were enjoying yourselves-”

“ _Good night,_ Cassian.” He let out a sigh and left without another word. And I walked into the room, and closed the door behind me. I could see the sun’s rays starting to peek through the cracks in the window covers. It was Starfall morning. I threw myself on the bed, not even bothering to undress.

Just a few hours sleep.

I could find a way to face all of this with a few hours sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought! All comments and suggestions are welcome, & if you have a POV/scene you would really like to see, please let me know! Thank you for reading!
> 
> Also, I have a writing Tumblr now! If anyone is interested in talking & discussing ACOTAR, ACOMAF, or giving suggestions/asking questions, I can be found at _<http://kitashiwrites.tumblr.com>_.
> 
> Hope to see you there!


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